


Give it Time

by wheniamqueenx



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniamqueenx/pseuds/wheniamqueenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Connor comes out to Troye, who puts his feelings to one side to help Connor accept himself and feel safe and not pressure him at all.  </p>
<p>'Connor is on a date. A date with a dude, to be specific. This is something Troye never envisaged happening but a month ago,  including the part where he is in Connor Franta’s apartment desperately and casually pretending he is not waiting up for him on the couch.'</p>
<p>Set in 2014.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give it Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction.
> 
> Beta'd by [colazitron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron)

Connor is on a date. A date with a dude, to be specific. This is something Troye never envisaged happening but a month ago, including the part where he is in Connor Franta’s apartment desperately and casually pretending he is not waiting up for him on the couch. Troye had no right to be grouchy about the situation, given that it was someone he had introduced Connor to, but at the same time he had not really meant to romantically set the two up or expected Connor to accept the offer. See despite Tyler being all _‘oh my god there are so many guys who would die to date you’_ , Connor had seemed pretty uninterested, and mainly a little overwhelmed and terrified by the prospect. Once Connor even had the audacity to complain to Troye about the amount of guys coming onto him, _‘Troye, I swear it is like I’m wearing a sign or something, does Tyler have a brain signal with the whole of west Hollywood?’_ To which Troye had a replied, _‘well it’s a gay bar, what did you expect?’_ Which in retrospect perhaps sounded slightly dismissive but Connor hadn’t seemed too dissuaded or insulted, as he continued his rant of sorts. What Troye had really wanted to say was, ‘you are an extremely attractive gay guy with a ridiculously nice butt in a gay bar’. Troye had sympathised later on in the Skype conversation, because he got it, he had been terrified when he went to his first gay bar, and Connor is from the Midwest and used to pulling out chairs for girls, not very forward men who want to have their way with him. Which is why Troye was very desperately trying not to be one of them, and to be his friend instead – then this happened.

On a friend level, Troye decides it is perfectly reasonable to be waiting up for him, staring at his phone blankly and scrolling through Tumblr. JC, Kian and Ricky are out at some party round someone’s house, he had been invited, but made up some excuse about having to get up early to go to the studio next day. It is when he is on the tenth page of some random Narry blog that he decides maybe it would look more sane, and less creepy, if he pretended he’d fallen asleep on the couch. Just as Troye has taken a lying down position, minutes later he hears keys jangling. He desperately tries to make his heart beat at the right pace, and relax his breathing. At this point he feels Connor must have noticed him, as he can tell he is treading very softly in an attempt to not disturb him. Troye’s need to interact with Connor overwhelms his fear of being creepy at this point, and he mock stretches and yawns, opening his eyes, even though he finds Connor is actually next door in the kitchen.

Troye pads into the other room, rubbing his eyes, “oh hey,” he says to signal his arrival, going to the sink to pour a glass of water.

“I must have fallen asleep on the couch,” Troye adds apropos of nothing.

Connor turns his back to him, after only acknowledging him with a nod of his head and a smile, going back to making coffee, at eleven at night which is slightly odd. There is warm light stripped down the back of Connor’s neck, where his head is dipped. 

“Are you okay, Con?” Troye finds himself asking.  
He had planned on not asking direct questions, but had a strange flutter of concern in his stomach.

“Huh?” Connor says, now turning to face Troye. 

He looks tired, his face drawn. Everything Is still and quiet for a moment.

“Are you okay? You seem –” Troye doesn’t know how to finish the sentence though and hopes the prompt is enough.

“Oh uh yeah,” Connor supplies but what comes after is a long frustrated sigh as he scrubs a hand over his face. 

Troye’s hand itches to touch his shoulder or something equally reassuring.

“I just – Dating is hard,” Connor settles on.

_Well no shit_ , Troye thinks, but does not say anything.

“I feel like I’m sixteen again,” he continues, “I don’t know how act anymore. I don’t know, it’s dumb.”

“Hey, no, it’s fine. I get it, I do,” Troye replies, finally reaching his hand out to rub between Connor’s shoulders.

“I feel like I’ve lost all this time. Like I’m playing catch up, I’ve spent so long suppressing this, I don’t know how to be it,” he vaguely gestures into the air, as if he were painting Troye a picture.

“You will get there,” Troye says, hand still moving in circles on Connor’s back. 

Connor smiles at him, but it is unsure.

“Yeah,” he says, as if trying to convince himself. “Hey, weren’t you meant to be going to that party tonight?” he asks, turning around to finish making coffee as Troye lets his hand fall away.

“Oh yeah, I don’t know – those parties can be a bit much for me.”

Connor hums to himself, “I don’t blame you.”

Troye feels like wiping metaphorical sweat off his brow, and letting out an exuberant _‘phew’_ because although this is sort of true, he also really could not enjoy himself knowing Connor was on a date. Which he promises himself is partly due to how protective he has felt over Connor ever since he came out to him, and only a teeny bit to do with the crush he has on his fast becoming best friend, who was previously a straight friend. 

“So do I need to awkwardly avoid Gareth tomorrow or…”’ Troye says, trying to keep the atmosphere light. 

Connor visibly cringes.

“Oh fuck, yeah, I’m sorry, Troye, I didn’t even –” Connor starts.

“Hey, I’m kidding. Don’t be silly, you have nothing to be sorry for.” _Ever_ he wants to add, but it seems too emotional.

“I mean to be honest, maybe Gareth is a nice guy, maybe he’s even my type,” he adds air quotes, “but right now, I can’t work out who I even am, let alone who I fancy or want to date. I think maybe I need more time to process things before I can even consider all that.”

“That is totally valid, Con. I think that’s a great decision. And, hey, you have so much stuff coming up anyway, I’m sure you won’t even be thinking about boys or whatever.”

Connor nods firmly, as if signing off his decision to himself.

He pours his coffee, and then raises his mug to Troye’s cup of water.

“You are a great friend, Troye,” Connor grins, clinking his mug to Troye’s glass. “Here’s to being single,” he adds, then pauses as if on second thought, mug inches from his lips,“Well not you, you’re going to get all the boys.” Connor winks as he takes a gulp of what is probably way too hot coffee. Troye rolls his eyes, and laughs.

-

When Connor came out to Troye it was out of leftfield. Not that Troye would be truly surprised if anyone came out to him as whatever gender or sexuality, he just did not particularly get the sense Connor was actively hiding anything. Connor also had not alluded that he had anything in particular to tell Troye on that day.

In fact any prelude and hype had been around the fact Connor and Tyler were coming to visit San Francisco whilst he was going to be there, something Tyler had told Troye but a week before. Troye had not thought much of it, beyond feeling touched that his friends were specially going somewhere to see him and that they weren’t merely all in the same place due to work.

Troye met up with Connor and Tyler in the evening, both looking only slightly weary from the flight over. Troye felt completely buzzed, despite being pretty exhausted. Dinner that first night had been a joyous occasion, with laughter and excitement, and overlapping conversations. It was only in retrospect he had noticed moments in between anecdotes and courses, Connor looking slightly pensive, playing with the tablecloth, pulling chunks out of a napkin. On the stroll back to the hotel they were all staying at, Troye found himself dragging behind the others, in order to fall into step with Connor. He nudged him gently in the side, to announce his presence - Connor instantly seemed brighter, more alert, as he looked up at Troye.

“You good?” Connor asks.

Up ahead Troye could hear Tyler very loudly regaling his brother with a story.

“Yeah, course. Can’t believe you guys came to see me, that’s all.”

“Of course, we couldn’t not see you!” Connor replied, laughing slightly as if very the notion was funny.

“Still, I appreciate it.” 

“Well good,” Connor says, throwing his arm around Troye’s shoulder and squeezing him towards him briefly before letting go.

Troye goes to open his mouth but before he can speak Connor says,“we better go save your brother from another story…” nodding ahead. 

Troye laughs, and they speed into a light jog to catch up with the two of them.

Once back at the hotel, they all agree to call it a night and go their separate ways. An hour later, Troye gets a text from Connor, which only slightly perplexes him.

‘You up still?’ It reads.

‘Yeah… what’s up?’

‘Uh do u wanna come to the room for a bit?’ Troye glances at his clock, he had not been that successful at sleeping so far, still feeling buzzed, so he puts on his small lamp and grapples around to find a shirt to shove on, already wearing pyjama bottoms. 

He quickly replies, ‘sure see you guys in a bit.’

‘Cool’ is the short and quick response he gets back.

Troye leaves a note on his bed in case his brother wakes up and worries.

When he arrives at the room, it turns out ‘guys’ is a great overestimation, because upon glancing round, he finds only Connor propped up on his bed.

“Oh, uh, yeah, Tyler went to the bar to meet up with a friend,” Connor supplies, at Troye’s obvious confusion.

Troye frowns only slightly. It seemed odd for Tyler to leave Connor, and also he hadn’t mentioned his intentions at dinner - but perhaps friend was code for a grindr find. Troye shrugs before perching himself at the bottom of Connor’s bed.

Now he was looking at Connor in the yellowy overhead lighting of the hotel room, he felt stupid for thinking Connor was okay. Thinking of it he’d been worried about the fact for a while now, but unsure of if they were close enough for him to really press the matter. All he could do was stay up till five am chatting softly about nothing in particular with him on Skype. That was pretty standard for Troye and Connor though. Last time he had spoken with Connor on Skype, the conversation had drifted a lot to past, family memories, and even high school. Troye had actually learnt quite a lot on that last chat, including that Connor had been homecoming king.

Troye decides to go in with the big guns; I mean Connor would not get him alone at one am to chat like this, for no reason. He must have something he wants to get off his chest, and Troye isn’t sure a trip down memory lane to avoid the subject is going to change that.

“Connor,” he says sternly, then feeling more timid and unsure, he clears his throat.

“There is something you want to tell me, isn’t there?” he wages on despite this.

Connor’s eyes open really wide, as if he had scared him, Troye’s heart is racing suddenly as he wonders what could possibly have his friend so on edge. He scoots closer, hovering a hand above Connor’s knee then decides against it, and lets it drop to the bed.

“Connor… you’re worrying me.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m fine really,” Connor quickly blurts out.

“You’re right though. Not that I didn’t just want to see you this trip. But I also kind of have an ulterior motive.”

“…Okay.”

“I wanted to tell you something, in person,” Troye feels as though he is going to throw up at this point.

“I –” Connor is staring directly into Troye’s eyes, but loses his nerve at the last second. 

Troye has no idea what to do to make this easier for Connor.

“Hey, it’s okay; you don’t have to tell me… whatever is. If you aren’t ready –”

“But I do. And I want to. I don’t see it getting easier anytime soon, and Troye, I’ve become so close to you, it would be like I was lying,” he sighs, his shoulders slumping, “and I’m so tired of lying.”

Troye can see a glint in Connor’s eyes where they are starting to well up.

“Fuck, I said I wouldn’t cry this time.” Connor still can’t quite meet his eyes, but very softly he says to his toes, so Troye almost does not catch it, “Troye, I’m gay.”

Troye lets out an accidentally audible gasp, which is a strangled sound between relief that he is not sick, and slight shock that he tries desperately to suppress.

“Fuck, Connor,” he says, quickly jumping up from where he is perched, coming round the side of the bed, throwing his arms around Connor’s curled up form, albeit slightly awkwardly. Then he thinks, _oh yeah, words, I should really do more words._

“You’re okay, Connor. It’s good, you’re great.”

He can hear Connor take a deep breath, a slight wetness to it.

“Sorry, I –“ Connor starts, mumbled into his knees.

“Don’t be silly, I’m so proud of you. Have you told anyone else?”

Connor brings his head up slightly, so his mouth is visible again.

“Tyler,” it drags from his throat, raw, and tired.

“Good, that’s great. Two people already? That’s really great. I’m so happy you told me.”

Troye’s own hand is shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his body.

“I’m so proud of you,” he continues to ramble on.

Troye thought back to how casually he came out to Connor on Skype a few months after being friends with him. Connor had sweetly enough complimented Troye’s new haircut, and made some jokey comment about him getting all the girls and Troye had been like _‘well, boys, cause I’m gay, but thanks.’_ Connor had gotten all red, blathering on apologetically about making assumptions. Troye had laughed and just gone on to explain how he wasn’t really out online. This is very far from that though - this is Troye at fourteen, terrified and staring into the unknown.

They stay curled up together for a bit, then eventually Connor unfurls himself so they can lie on the bed, Connor speaking in soft and dulcet tones, and Troye trying not to push too much, and just nodding. They must fall asleep like this, because Troye wakes up in pitch darkness, feeling groggy. Glancing at the hotel clock which reads four am and clocking that Tyler is now back in the bed to the side, he slowly gets up – making sure to not disturb Connor. He looks heavy, but peaceful, he hasn’t shifted at all. Troye counts a few of his measured soft breaths, briefly entranced before sliding out and back to his room.

The next day is different to say the least. It feels like becoming friends with Connor from day one but with the familiarity of months previous. Sure, Troye can see the little cracks where Connor is broken with a lot of healing still left to do, a lot of people still to tell – but he seems somehow stronger. Troye feels a bond of trust he had not realised their friendship had been missing. It was something to be cherished, and protected, this he knew.

-

The day after Connor’s date, Troye really does need to get to the studio –although more close to afternoon. He wakes on an air mattress in Connor’s room to the snoring sounds of at least one of his flatmates. He stretches before venturing out the door, but instead nearly collides with Connor who is just on the other side. The sandy haired boy lets out an ‘oop’ but gets away with a mere dribble of coffee. He looks perky and like he has definitely been awake a considerable amount of hours already; it is eleven in the morning after all.

“Oh, I was just coming to bring you this,” he says, holding out piping hot coffee, which although probably strong also has a considerable amount of milk in it because Troye is not quite as much as a connoisseur as Connor.

“Oh, thanks,” he says still half asleep, and takes the cup from Connor.

“JC is still asleep in the living room,” he says gesturing with his head. 

They opt for stepping back into Connor’s room and sitting on the floor; Troye perched on the air mattress, because he doesn’t trust himself not to spill on Connor’s bed. They talk softly. Troye slowing coming round, still dressed in his sleep pants and an old t-shirt. Connor does not bring up last night, or give any more information about what the actual date was like, instead they talk more superficially, Connor shows him stuff he has been designing on Photoshop and they watch some YouTube videos. Troye eventually has to tear himself away to go to the the bathroom and finish getting ready; he is cutting it way too fine. It is the first time in a while Troye has not wanted to go to ‘work,’ the day feels slow and lazy and like it exists in Connor’s apartment – even Connor seems unable to hide slight disappointment at Troye’s departing, hovering over him till the last minute.

A few hours later and Troye is taking a food break with Alex, which has so far mainly happened in silence. He decides he may as well check his phone which has been on vibrate and pretty much neglected. He has a message from Connor, when he clicks on his name he sees it is in fact a video message, so he grabs for his headphones from his other pocket hoping he doesn’t seem too rude – once secured, he hits play. Feeling oddly nervous for no reason at all – Connor’s face fills the screen, clearly propped on his bed with his laptop, wearing a grey t-shirt.

“Hey Troye. Sorry if this is weird – “ There is some sort of loud bang and shout In the background, and Connor sighs, taking his camera with him as he closes his door. 

Troye finds himself beyond amused at the simple act, he finds his hand has gone up to cover his mouth, as if to hide his pure joy at seeing his friend. 

“But It’s been really great having you in LA, and I just wanted to say thank you for being such a great friend, I – Yeah. Sorry if I’m a bit of a bore recently too, but l totally value all your opinions on whatever is going on in my head at the minute. Well. I hope you are having great day in the studio. I better go check nothing just got broken. Bye!’ The video ends, and Troye pauses before it goes back to black, so it is stuck on Connor’s soft sloping smile for a bit. Troye thinks his hand might be shaking slightly though, so he drops his phone as if it is on fire onto the sofa. His other hand still hiding the mixture of a smile and disbelief at Connor fucking Franta. If Alex notices any of this, she doesn’t say anything.

Eventually she does venture to ask, “Are you okay?”

He slowly turns to look at her sheepishly, “Uh, you know, boys.”

She laughs, “Man, you got it bad.”

Troye just sort of shrugs, but that isn’t even the half of it, because Connor isn’t ‘boys’, Connor is Connor Franta, who he met less than a year ago when he was ‘straight’ and Troye was seventeen years old, and Connor was so bright and American and sweet and easy. Connor is not just some boy, he is the homecoming king private school catholic Midwest boy who came out to him a month ago, and sobbed in his arms. Troye can already feel the repression of all these emotions, as if throwing water over a fire. 

_

Playlist an event he usually enjoys, seems to come round in a blink of an eye for Connor, which today as he finishes packing is just bringing him large amounts of nausea. You see, after all this is finished, Connor is planning on breaking the news to the boys that he plans to leave O2L. He has also decided to come out to them in the same breath, due to suggestion by Troye. _‘Sometimes group is more quick and painless. You told me in a time where it was more raw and emotional, cause it was still early, you wanted to talk more, maybe this time say more, ‘oh by the way’ as a warm up for the future. Also if anyone did want to say anything mildly problematic, in a group like that the majority will have a positive and respectful response, so anyone who doesn’t looks like a jackass so will keep it to themselves and resolve it in their own time. That’s how I came out the Spud cast, and it was euphoric.’_

Now he was going to have to endure millions of fans, and chants of ‘o2l forever’ knowing he was going to leave and disappoint his friends, and their followers. The thing is, it isn’t like Connor currently felt massively bad about this, if anything it felt as though he were taking off a chokehold – as if he could finally breathe, and start to see a bit clearer. It was a decision, among a lot, he had spoken over with his therapist, and he was working on ridding himself of a sense of duty to others that he often put on himself – that could be misguided.

The most relieving part of the trip was Troye though, if he were to be honest. They’d decided to share a hotel room; the o2l boys weren’t too fussed, as Ricky was sharing with Shelby anyway, and Kian with Andrea, so they were all kind of split up. Kian had teased Connor about his budding ‘bromance’ with Troye, and then gotten distracted by something else. Talking to Troye, and being around Troye was an oddly grounding experience that he needed in his life very much, especially in amongst the craziness of Playlist. Connor could not think of a conversation he had with Troye that did not leave him feeling better off in some way, whether about editing, music, or chips and guacamole.

“Connor, come on, we’re going to miss our flight,” Ricky calls.

“Coming!” he says. Just about to close his case, he notices a rolled up ball of white fabric, frowns and grabs it. 

Shaking it out, he realises it is a t-shirt; he runs his fingers along the slight jagged neckline, his thumb swiping across a blue mark which seems to be from a biro pen. The fabric is soft in his hands, well worn. It instantly smells familiar, and he feels a warm feeling spreading through his chest; Ralph Lauren. It’s Troye shirt he slept in whilst staying there. He turns it around, and sure enough in peeling transfer letters, it names a Hawaiian holiday resort. Quickly he attempts to fold it, and throws it on top of his other shirts, making a mental note to give it to Troye when he sees him at the hotel.

When they make it there, the boys split up after picking up their keys. It seems Troye has already checked in, so Connor makes his way to their room. He slides his key in the door, waiting for the light, and then pushing the door open without really thinking.

“Fucking –” Troye’s voice cuts through, Connor looks up in time to see a blur of white towelling fabric, as Troye knots a robe that was very clearly open before. Connor raises his hand to cover his eyes although he did not actually see anything else than Troye’s chest.

“Shit, sorry, Troye. I didn’t think, he says, the door closing behind him as he moves into the room more.

“Yeah, knocking is a thing.”

“I didn’t see anything! Good thing you weren’t masturbating, eh?”

Connor has now removed the hand from his eyes, to see Troye walking towards the bed, his white fluffy hotel robe fully wrapped round him and securely tied. Troye flings himself onto one of the beds, making sure not to open his legs too wide.

Connor rolls his case over to the other bed, putting it on it, and starting to open the case.

“That bad, eh?” Connor asks, glancing over to Troye.

“Thirty two hours bad, yes,” he says, eyes closing briefly, he looks soft and cuddly like this, hair damp from the shower and falling over his eye slightly, a strip of his pale chest exposed to the Florida sun streaming through the window.

“Jeez,” Connor says, “I suppose this means I can’t complain about Kian nearly giving me a black eye on the plane then?”

Troye snorts.

“I’ll let you, but just this once,” he says, opening one of his eyes to peep at Connor who is putting socks into his bedside drawer.

“My life flashed before my eyes.”

Troye openly laughs at this, his smile bright and wide. Connor finds some of the tension in his shoulders falling away from the sound. 

“Hey!” Connor shouts, but he’s laughing too.

Connor has taken out almost all his clothes, when his eyes fall upon an unfamiliar piece of white folded up fabric: Troye's shirt.

“Oh, hey, you left this at mine,” Connor says, flinging it to Troye.

Troye unfurls it. “Oh, thanks, I was wondering where that got to.”

“I mean, I was going to add it to my Troye Sivan shrine but-” Connor says in an exaggerated tone.

Troye doesn’t really react though. He lets out a small huff of a laugh, before grabbing some clothes from his bag, saying something about getting changed and the Brits already being at the pool, and then slipping into the bathroom. Connor tries desperately not to put too much thought into Troye not laughing at his stupid joke or delivering a comeback. He has just got off a long flight after all.

Troye seems brighter and chattier by dinnertime. Connor had some commitments with O2L today, but meetings and rehearsals, not fan interaction. Troye had very little on at all, so had time to have a rest and a nap Connor assumed, either that or he had crossed into the nervous energy part of jet lag - whatever it is makes it even easier for Connor to ignore any strange vibe he gave off earlier in the day. Him, Korey, Tyler and Troye are all going to dinner together, vowing to meet up with everyone else in some hotel room later on. Although Connor’s sexuality isn’t likely to be the only dinner topic, it still feels more relaxing to have time with a group who he is completely out to.

Dinner is mainly relaxed, but Connor does quickly recognise that Tyler is very much on the wired side of tired, and once he’s had one Whiskey all bets are off for the evening. Which mainly keeps things interesting, but also sometimes loud. At one point when Connor is talking about wanting to work out more, Tyler clasps his hand around his slight bicep, and says _‘daddy, you can work me out any day of the week’_. It is so obnoxious, even Tyler instantly face palms himself. Connor just lets his mouth drop fully open, and chokes a bit.

“Do you even know what you are saying anymore?” Korey asks, voice full of amusement.

Troye’s reaction is slightly different, as Connor notices him roll his eyes, and he doesn’t suppose it’s meant to be noticeable, because it’s so quick - but tipsy Tyler surprisingly does, although takes it light heartedly.

“Hey! Just because you don’t flirt with Connor anymore! Let me live.”

Troye seems genuinely flustered, mainly because he hadn’t meant anyone to see his reaction, Connor supposes. He goes to open his mouth leaning forward, as if to argue a case, but sort of just stutters, then closes his mouth again. What is he meant to say really, protest that he does in fact flirt with Connor? Which is to say not doing so is in some way a mean thing, or to admit he did not think Tyler would see his eye roll. Korey must sense the awkwardness of the moment, even though Tyler seems currently incapable, and quickly starts talking about something else inane.

On the way back to the hotel Connor hangs back a bit, to walk in line with Troye; Korey and Tyler ahead, with the former propping up the latter. They are both going back to their rooms for a bit before heading to one of the Brits’ rooms, Tyler to take a quick nap, and Connor to change his shirt since he managed to spill sauce down it. Connor and Troye aren’t really having any kind of deep conversation, mainly they walk in silence, either one of them occasionally making a comment about something they pass, a person’s coat, a cute dog. Connor is feeling as if he’s had the blinkers taken off, after the interaction between Tyler and Troye – before Tyler had mentioned it, it had not really noticed that Troye had stopped flirting with him. Connor hadn’t really thought their previous interactions that were now apparently absent, counted as flirting, and this threw him for a bit of a loop - it was like seeing his and Troye’s friendship from an outside perspective. Connor has definitely been almost stuck in his inner messy thoughts recently.

“Hey, you okay?” Troye’s voice suddenly pipes through the hustle and bustle around them. Connor's silence had shifted into introspection, Troye had somehow sensed this.

“Uh?” Now Connor moves his face, he can feel where his forehead had been drawn in a frown.

“Oh, yeah. Just had a epiphany.”

Troye smiles softly at this, “Woah there.”

Connor laughs, “I just. I think I’ve been stuck in a bit of an inner bubble recently.”

“I mean, it’s understandable…” Troye says. “Stuff is changing in your life.”

“Yeah, but stuff is happening in your life too, I want to talk about that.”

“My life? I mean, it’s pretty boring. If there was something interesting to tell I would…”

“Oh, boring? Mr I have a record deal .”

“Yeah, but you kind of see a lot of that happening in real time. Sometimes a friend just has a lot going on their life, and the focus shifts, that’s fine.”

“Mmm. Well, humour me. Make something up if you have to!”

Connor gesticulates his hands wildly in the air.

“Okay…” Troye hums slightly as they keep walking, getting pretty close to the hotel now; Tyler And Korey are almost spots now.

“Well sometimes when I see fat old dogs I secretly call or text my mum to check Jaggar is still alive. Um, and my ex texts me like a lot… for someone who dumped me, and all. But I mean, it’s fine, I don’t reply.”

“Wait, shit, that’s not cool right. Do you want to like talk about it or…”

“I mean I don’t think about my dog dying twenty four seven so I think…”

Now it’s Connor’s turn to roll his eyes, in a very obvious and light-hearted manner. Troye ducks his head, slightly bashful, and smiles.

“I mean, I figure if I don’t look or think about it or talk about it, it won’t make me feel any emotion at all. That works, right?” Troye says, looking at him now, a little hopeful.

“What sort of thing does he text you?”

“Well it started pretty standard, like, how you doing, etc, as if we hadn’t just broken up and are still friends and hadn’t been not talking to each other at all for weeks. Then, well - things got x rated –”

Troye cuts off his own anecdote as they reach the hotel, and practically fall into Korey and Tyler. They exchange details about later on at the lift exit, before going to their separate rooms. Troye is still keeping quiet. When they get back to the room though, Troye reminds Connor of the red mark on his t-shirt.

“You should probably take your shirt off…”

“Well now, only if you ask nicely,” Connor retorts – is this what Tyler means by ‘flirting’? 

‘’As much as that sounds like a great start to a porno, I mean to get the stain off before it sets,” Troye replies.

“Oh, haha,” and although Troye has gone with the joke, and not against it, Connor finds himself feeling a bit flushed. 

This is why he should not drink after travelling.

He quickly does as Troye said, who is bending down for something in his bag, his very slim hips paraded in the air in tight fit jeans. Despite his slim body though, Connor now notices Troye’s butt is still pretty perky and round, and very much existent. It isn’t earth-shattering information and before he can think anything else much about it, Troye is standing up holding a bottle of what Connor assumes is stain remover. Connor is standing there topless still clutching the messy garment in his hands.

“You know you can talk to me about sex things?” he says abruptly.

Troye laughs, hand outreached slightly and gesturing to Connor’s shirt. Connor looks down at his hand, and then passes it to him.

“Okay. Thanks?” Troye says.

Connor stutters slightly, losing where his thoughts are headed as Troye moves into the bathroom to treat his t-shirt. Connor follows him, standing in the doorway.

“No, I mean. I just - about your ex and stuff…you don’t have to like, shelter me.”

Troye is sponging his shirt, grinning slightly to himself.

“From sex?” he says, looking into the mirror and catching Connor’s eye, where he is leant shirtless on the doorframe. “I’m not.”

“No, from gay sex.” Troye laughs, but then turns to Connor, after hanging the shirt over the towel rack to try. 

Maybe Connor is reading too much into everything, because Troye is now reaching into those tight fit jeans, and pulling his phone out, selecting something and handing it to Connor.

It is a very explicit dirty message, followed by a picture of a very erect angry penis.

“Oh my god.” Connor looks as though he wants to throw the phone onto the floor, so Troye quickly grabs it off him.

Connor finds himself instantly going into protect mode.

“Shit, does he really think that shit works?” Does it? he wants to add, but doesn’t want to insult his friend.

Troye shrugs, looking a little tired, and leans against the sink.

“I guess it must have worked on me at some point in time, in some respect. But that was different, we were together. Now he just sees me like some stupid kid he fucked, and therefore thinks he owns me, and that I should be gagging for it, for him, all the time.”

“Pardon my French, but he sounds like a cunt. That dick picture is pretty underwhelming, and awkwardly shot too.”

Troye half gasps, before laughing in delight.

“You’ve changed, Connor.”

“Well, what can I say. Let me know if you need me to delete his number.”

Troye smiles warmly at him, pushing himself away from the sink.

“Thanks, Con, it means a lot. Now, do you need a shirt?”

Connor ends up wearing the sleep shirt that he’d returned to Troye earlier.

“Sorry it’s kind of beat up,” Troye says as they stroll down the hotel corridor to Jim and Tanya’s room where everyone else is, a little bit later.

“No, it’s fine, I like it,” he says, throwing Troye a crooked smile. 

He bites his tongue on how it feels worn and soft, and warm – what he imagines home feels, looks and smells like for Troye when he can’t physically be in it. It makes Connor feel as though he is in some way part of Troye’s life outside of the craziness, Perth and Australian boys Connor has never even met kissing his skin. It puts a pit in his stomach, because Troye is so present in his life, and yet he hungers to be closer to him, to have more access to his life, to be allowed deeper in still, to get to be part of the things he doesn’t yet know about or hear about. He feels dizzy, drunk, and insatiable with it.

The next time they are walking back down the hallway they are going back to their room. Connor is actually chemically drunk now, and although he is pretty sure Troye is too, he still thinks it a good idea to use him as his stable crutch – his arm flung over the younger boy’s shoulder. He isn’t paralytic, but the kind of drunk where everything is soft and hazy, yet also overwhelmingly bright and happy –Troye’s blue eyes are near blinding.

“You have such blue eyes,” he announces loudly. Troye hushes him physically by pressing a finger against his lips and Connor bats it away limply. 

Somehow they have managed to reach their door, and Troye has been given the unspoken responsibility to open it. He struggles with the timing of the swipe, withdraw and turn handle sequence for a minute, and Connor giggles uselessly into his shoulder blade.

The button turns green.

“Huzzah” he exclaims, but it’s more of a loud whisper at this point.

Connor instantly makes his way to his bed, throwing himself on it. He is fully clothed, which is an issue he really does not fancy dealing with, so he lets his eyes slip closed for a moment. He can feel Troye padding around the room. It is oddly soothing – sock covered feet on the carpet.

“Would you kiss me?” The words slide out of his mouth, the way words do when your inhibitions are down – his voice cracks slightly, the tone changes three times – even he isn’t sure of his intentions by the end of those four words.

He hasn’t opened his eyes. Troye stops moving. Connor tries to guess where he is in the room and what he’s doing – he gives up and opens his eyes.

Troye is standing at the foot of his bed, with no shirt on, looking only slightly thrown.

“What do you mean?”

Connor props himself up on his elbows, sobering up more, pondering the question as if retracing his steps to the initial idea.

“I don’t know. Like. I mean. I’ve never kissed a boy.”

Troye sits down on the end of Connor’s bed.

“Okay,” he says, as if to say ‘continue.’

“I’m worried about it.”

“Well, you’ve kissed a girl before, right?”

Connor simply nods.

“Well. It’s like that. But there’s… potentially actual attraction.” 

“I just, I’m twenty one, I feel every guy is ahead of me, that when it comes to it, I’ll –‘

“Freak out?” Troye supplies.

“Yeah, I don’t know.”

“I think it’s exciting personally. Firsts are great, you never get them back.”

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it, there is so much pressure on a first. I don’t want it to be like that, when I eventually do start dating, the dating part alone will be scary enough. If I get the kiss out of the way… at least.”

“Wait. Are you asking me to kiss you? To be your ‘first’?” Troye actually supplies the air quotes.

If Connor were more aware right now, he would see Troye’s hand is shaking slightly. Connor nods, not backing down from his drunken courage, and validity of his idea.

“Isn’t that a lot of pressure for me?” Troye says, stressing the me, and gesturing to his chest.

“Well, you don’t have much to live up to…”

Troye rolls his eye playfully, “Gee thanks for the faith in my abilities.”

“You know what I mean!” Connor rebukes, throwing a pillow at him.

“Wow, I have no idea how you used to get so many girls,” Troye quips.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” Connor splutters out, trying not to sound too exasperated. 

There is a roaring in his ears suddenly – as he realises the actuality of what will follow if Troye accepts. Connor sticks to his plans though, so he juts his jaw out definitely and waits.

“Okay,” Troye says, measured and slow, soft against the loudness of his heart beat. “One condition.”

“No tongues?” Connor jokes.

Troye splutters a laugh. “Well yeah, cause I’m not a slut. But also, can I put a shirt on first?”

“Uh, yeah,” Connor says, dazed, surprised by the slightness of the request for some reason. He doesn’t know what else he expected though. _‘Never speak of this again’_. They aren’t in grade school anymore.

Troye gets up and puts a t-shirt on, and then he’s sitting on the side of Connor’s bed, looking oddly nervous. Then he rearranges himself, so he is fully sitting on the bed, legs folded, looking straight into Connor’s eyes, earnest.

“Okay,” Connor says, sitting up properly. “Shall I, uh?”

“Its up to you,” Troye says.

“Can you… to me?” Connor asks, hand waving in the space between us.

Troye nods. “Last chance to back out.”

He leans up on his knees, slowly leaning forward. Connor takes the opportunity to relent control, shutting his eyes, because Troye’s freckles, and pink lips are overwhelming him this close. He feels breath across his skin, it’s warm. Then he feels Troye’s hand cup the side of his face. It gives Connor a thrill now knowing Troye holds someone’s face when he kisses them. Then, there are his lips – soft and then firm against his, at a slight angle. Connor’s heart is in his throat; isn’t kissing a friend meant to relaxing, less stressful? Connor just about remembers to lean into it, moving his lips ever so slightly into a pucker, his hand limply holding Troye’s side. Then it is over.

Connor opens his eyes, Troye is still hovering over him slightly, his eyes wide and twinkling in the yellow hotel light.

“Was that okay?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” Connor says, pulling his bottom lip slightly with his teeth.

He really does not know what to say at this point, as he didn’t expect to be so affected by a peck on the lips from a close friend – but his blood is soaring, and his head is fuzzy.

“We better get some sleep,” Connor says reluctantly. 

“Yeah, probably,” Troye concedes. He gets off the bed with some slowness and resignation as if he feels he should say or do something else.

For all his tiredness, and alcohol consumption, Connor hardly sleeps.

-

Back in LA, and the kiss between him and Connor seems to have broken down Troye’s resolve, and his ‘no flirting rule’ is off the table. This stay in LA is pretty short, and mainly spent in the studio and in meetings, but he still makes time to film some videos with Tyler, and see Connor. One night at Tyler’s apartment, when Connor has left early as his sister is coming in the morning – Tyler calls him out on it.

“So. Connor,”e says apropos of nothing, when he comes back to the sofa with a drink for Troye.

Troye looks up from his laptop.

“What about him?” he enquires, trying his hardest to maintain a poker face.

I mean it is not like Tyler does not know Troye finds Connor attractive, but so does every other gay YouTuber. He also clearly noticed that Troye had stopped ever mentioning him as a crush in interviews, and obviously from the Playlist dinner, that he had stopped ‘flirting’ with Connor. But they have never had a conversation about it, and Tyler has never verbalised thinking it had any real significance.

“What is up with you two?”

“Nothing, being good friends, pals?”

Tyler rolls his eyes so hard Troye is surprised it does not give him a headache.

“Okay, but like. What happened to the whole not flirting with him thing?”

“Who ever said that was a thing, Ty?” Troye replies, in a tone which he means to be measured and calm, and only slightly annoyed, but comes out tired and laboured, as if it was all he ever got asked by anyone. 

“Okay okay. Chill. I was only joking, I’m sorry,” Tyler replies, slightly startled by the shift.

Troye scrubs his hands over his face, suddenly feeling heavy and stuck.

“Are you okay?” Tyler asks, rubbing a hand across his back.

“We kissed,” Troye says, but his palms are squishing his lips together, so Tyler doesn’t hear it.  
He moves his hands away, finally facing him.

‘We kissed, at Playlist.”

To his testament, Tyler’s eyes only go slightly bulgy.

“Oh, as in…?” Troye can see Tyler’s head racing with a thousand questions, but can’t quite place where to start.

“As in, we were kind of drunk and he asked me to kiss him, and I don’t think it was meant to mean anything.”

“But it does to you?” Tyler asks, more brave and forthright now.

“I don’t know. He said he was nervous about kissing a boy, and would I be his first. It was like a peck.”

“Okay. So the problem is? Cause seems as though he is fine with it, if anything you guys seem closer than ever. I mean, I know I said you were flirting with him, but he was kind of flirting with you too.”

Troye raises his eyebrows slightly at this.

“I mean honestly. He ignores all my flirting, I’m insulted...” Tyler continues jokingly.

“I think I really like him and I’m scared,” Troye says.

“Okay. Are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know if I can. I stopped flirting with him because he came out to me, and I held him in my arms as he cried. You know? I had to be there for him, he’s my friend. One of my best friends, we’ve got so much closer and he’s going through so much.”

“Okay, well, you know, I think you should tell him. But I get it, I do, it’s hard.”

Troye just nods sadly, “Can we talk about something else?”

Tyler opens his mouth as though he is going to push Troye on the subject further, closes again, and then simply says “sure.”

Troye goes back to Perth two days later – he posts a picture of the airport to his Facebook, simply captioning it ‘Home’. An hour later his ex texts him.

‘I’m sorry. Coffee?’

_

It is pitch dark out, and Connor is excitedly texting Troye whilst in an Uber on the way to LAX, not particularly thinking about what time it is in Italy, where Connor is going to meet him before departing with the others on a road trip around the country. He swears to himself he is feeling only slightly anxious about seeing Troye. Which is strange in itself, because he should only be feeling excited. Maybe anxiety was the wrong way to describe it – it’s just every time he sees the other boy of late, he cannot predict how he is going to feel around him. Although he had seen Troye since that night in Playlist, it had been casually in LA, not hotel rooms, and long car journeys. There is absolutely no reason he should feel uncomfortable around Troye, he’s a good friend, something he repeats like a mantra on the plane journey over. But with every minute on the plane, until he eventually drifts off, he repeats the kiss that he had asked for, to such an extent he can feel a tingle on his lips like some sort of sense memory.

When he wakes up with one hour of the flight to go, he finds his pants uncomfortably tight, and he is sure it is not just a case of ‘morning’ wood, and feeling very thankful that his travel pillow is in fact on his lap. He does not particularly remember what he dreamt about, what he does know is that it very definitely involved Troye. Whatever it was must have been exciting, because he has not woken up this hot and bothered in a while. He spends the rest of the flight staring mindlessly out of the window, trying to convince himself dreams do not generally hold that much significance, and he was excessively thinking about the boy before drifting off. All this goes to shit though when he meets up with Troye at the convention and his stupid noodle arms try to hug him ridiculously tight, and Connor has to look directly into his stupidly blue eyes (cause, you know, that is polite and normal) and he feels like his whole face is on fire. Yeah, he’s fucked.

Troye is a pretty boy, this has always been a fact about him, whether you are straight, gay or anywhere on the spectrum. You notice it, whether it is in a ‘I want to fuck you’ way or a ‘I want to take care of you’ way. Connor will always remember the first time he met Troye in person, because even though he’d known what he looked like from videos, it was still startling in real life. Troye is otherworldly, slightly awkward, and pale – but striking none the less. This is something that Connor has noticed, you can’t not, but Troye was seventeen then, and still a bit unsure of himself, and Connor was still pretty deep in the closet. By the time Connor had comes to terms with being gay, he had put Troye pretty firmly in the box marked friend, best friend even. Suddenly Connor is now sitting across from this attractive, available boy in a hotel lobby, and re-learning all the things he objectively knew about Troye from the start.

“So what do you think?”

“Of?” 

The convention is now over and they are waiting around in the hotel lobby for the others who have gone to find cars to rent. Tyler is fast asleep, and Alfie is on the phone in the corner, and Joe has his headphones on, engrossed in editing.

“About telling the others you’re gay? I say quick and painless. But it’s up to you obviously.”

“Oh, yeah.”

They are sitting next to each other on a sofa, having turned their bodies to face each other, and converse in slightly hushed tones. 

Connor’s action plan is very much set on acting ‘normal’ around Troye on this trip - I mean, it would be awkward not to. Connor is a grown up who can have a crush and it not be a huge thing. Since the kiss at Playlist, they had actually been more comfortable around each other, especially in terms of physicality and even ‘flirty’ if that was to be the term that Tyler had put into his head. To change that now seemed illogical.

“I’m totally going to tell them before the trip begins, would be weird otherwise, especially as Marcus already knows.”

Connor feels pretty non plussed about the whole thing. Troye seems to raise his eyebrows, as if it impresses him that Connor is not more nervous.

“I mean, I’ve done the big ones, my parents…and O2L that was kind of big considering I live with them and they can be quite… you know,” Connor says to preface is ease. 

What he doesn’t say is he is also highly distracted by realising he has a crush on one of his best friends.

“Mmm,” Troye says, biting his tongue on _problematic_. 

Alfie strides over at this point, and plops himself onto the chair opposite them.

“What are you guys whispering about?” He asks casually as if he doesn’t really expect an answer.

For whatever reason Alfie’s arrival seems to distract Joe and cause him to look up.

“Uh?” he says, taking his headphones off.

“Wasn’t talking to you Joe,” Alfie says, to which the younger boy rolls his eyes and goes to put his headphones back on, till Connor waves a hand in the air, stopping him mid movement.

“Wait. There is something I need to tell you guys. Well I need to tell the others too, but –”

This piques both their interest, Joe leaning forwards. Connor sits up a bit straighter.

“What’s the gossip?” Alfie asks, jovially.

“I thought you guys should know-“ he stutters still slightly “– I’m gay.”

“Ah, man, that’s cool,” Alfie says.

“Fuck man, congrats,” Joe follows, both boys get up to half tackle him, half hug him.

“Wait, who else knows?” they ask as they pull away.

“Uh, well, these guys,” he says, gesturing to Troye and Tyler, “and Marcus.”

“I know there has been other times I could have told you, but it has always been so crazy and I didn’t want to yell it out to a room full of people –‘

“Hey, you don’t need to explain man,” Alfie says, sitting back in his seat.

Suddenly Joe pipes up, something seemingly dawning on him from the looks of his eyes bulging as he covers his mouth.

“Wait, are you guys –” he starts. 

Connor can feel his whole body go rigid, not daring to look at Troye. He looks at Joe with absolute panic in his eyes which he must notice cause he immediately tries to get out of it.

“Oh, shit, sorry, I thought you guys were dating,” he says.

Which still doesn’t make it that much less awkward, but at least it doesn’t require an answer. 

“Oh,” Troye says, eyebrows shooting up, and he laughs as if just realising, what their intensely close relationship looks like in the light of this new information – especially with Troye standing by him in this little coming out announcement.

Connor searches for a way to say ‘no’ for definite, without it coming out defensively - although he supposes Troye’s shock and laughter is enough.

Later on he comes out to the others. Connor is sure more inevitable questions around the topic will come throughout the trip, but aside from that it is equally casual – although Caspar squeezes him particularly hard, till he politely lets him know he can’t breathe. Then they split up into their respective cars, Connor of course with Troye.

Somewhere between stopping to see sights, on another long stroll through a new city in Italy, Troye and Connor are lagging behind the others. Chatting about things in more detail, beyond some of the platitudes that may get thrown around when surrounded by some of the others. Connor for some reason, is reminded of the unsightly texts he had seen on Troye’s phone.

“Oh, hey,” he starts, lightly nudging Troye, “did that arsehole of an ex stop texting you yet?”

Troye is looking straight ahead.

“Uh, kinda,” he says, faintly.

“What do you mean?” Connor asks, curious.

“I,” Troye scratches the back of his head, looking sheepish, “I kinda met up with him actually.”

“Oh,” is the only response Connor manages to muster. 

He knows it’s rude to pry, and Troye looks uncomfortable, but his head is bursting with questions, such as, met up as in hooked up? Met up as in to make friends? Met up for him to apologise to you? Met up as in you’re getting back together?

“Yeah,” Troye says, drawing the word out awkwardly, as if this ecompasses a range of answers.

Connor supposes it has something to do with Troye pre-empting judgement on the situation – he is not sure how to soothe Troye’s worry about this, his brain supplies _‘well as long as you’re happy.’_ But it sounds final and leaves a sour taste in Connor’s mouth before it can even get out. Instead he waits till an adequate amount of time has passed and changes the subject. Troye seems grateful for it, so maybe he isn’t such a bad friend after all.

The rest of Italy remains fairly uneventful, in terms of near moments of Connor making his crush painfully obvious. One evening, like on many, he finds himself zoning out, staring at Troye in a restaurant, his heart full and warm, with friends and food and the beauty that is Italy. He can’t help but think of his delicate limbs entwined with someone else, someone who he is sure does not really appreciate who Troye is. He is watching as Troye cautiously licks spilled sauce off his fingertips, a strange mix of erotic and endearing, the jumper he insists on wearing hanging around his arms and shoulders, when Troye looks directly at him.

“What?” Troye asks, looking embarrassed at being caught in the act.

Connor snaps out of it.

“Oh, nothing, just zoning out,” he supplies fairly convincingly.

Then Caspar chooses to get involved in the conversation, he stage whispers to Troye, leaning into his side.

“He’s wondering when you’re going to propose to him.”

Troye turns to him, narrowing his eyes in confusion, “Caspar, what are you –“

“Oh, don’t play silly with me. Italy is the city of romance, you finally have your chance now.”

Connor lets a choked abrupt laugh out. “Isn’t that Paris?”

Caspar pauses for a second. “You get my point.”

Troye only looks slightly shifty and embarrassed.

Caspar can see his joke isn’t really landing, and signs off with “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it,” before joining another conversation, leaving him and Troye to giggle, and sigh in his wake.

Connor startles himself by not letting the moment pass by commenting. “Strange how the minute I come out as gay, everyone thinks we are going to jump into bed with each other.”

Troye just shrugs.

“I guess I did say I’d marry you quite a bit before you came out,” Troye says.

Troye being so cool about it, makes Connor worry his initial response came off with an air of disgust at the mere suggestion.

Connor laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, but that was just, like, a joke, right?”

Troye just stares at him, before shrugging again, and Connor really wishes he’d quit that. Connor holds his gaze back, but then he remembers they are surrounded by other people. He clears his throat, and before he knows it the desserts are there and they get swept away in general table chatter. Whilst Connor enjoys his tiramisu, because it is fucking incredible, his head is full of ‘what the fuck was that?’ He waits the rest of Italy for Troye to look at him like that again, but it doesn’t happen, even when Caspar keeps making arsehole comments about them getting married when they are in a cathedral - Troye just gives the deadpan response of _‘I’m Jewish, Casp.’_ By the end of the trip Connor is almost convinced he imagined the look or it meant something else entirely. 

Italy comes to an end, and Connor is secretly smug he gets to spend more time with Troye and Tyler, as they head off to Brighton. It somewhat navigates some of his post holiday blues, and also, he hopes, more chances to figure out what is going on between him and Troye, if anything.  
This chance comes sooner than he thinks. The others had decided on playing a board game, but Troye remained swaddled up in a duvet on the couch opposite to Connor. Once Tyler gets up, Connor’s couch is left empty and it feels silly to sit alone, so he makes his way over to Troye’s, planning on teetering on the arm or perching on the edge and watching the other’s play on the floor. Troye lifts the covers, and curls his legs up so Connor can sit under the blanket. He wordlessly accepts the invitation.

“You can put your legs out again, if you like,” Connor says after a few seconds of comfortable silence, the duvet is draped over the both of them.

“Are you sure?” Troye asks. 

Connor shrugs noncommittally, as if he isn’t completely invested in Troye doing just that.

Troye untangles his legs, and lays them across Connor’s lap. Connor places a hand on his outer calf, as if to pull them more firmly and securely into place but he doesn’t move his hand away, and Troye doesn’t mention it – if Connor’s thumb occasionally makes a swiping movement against Troye’s leg, they definitely don’t mention it. Troye just goes back to laying his head against the back of the sofa, occasionally closing his eyes, humming in content. 

“I don't think I’m going to see my ex again,” he says softly, eyes still closed.

“Okay,” Connor says.

Troye opens his eyes to meet Connor’s.

“He’s kind of a dick, I felt like crap afterwards,” he continues.

“Why'd you go see him anyway?” Connor asks, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

“I don’t know. Feeling bad about myself? Looking for validation? – I don’t have the best luck with boys, you know,” Troye answers.

“Troye Sivan, I won’t hear of it!” Connor says, beating his spare hand against the sofa.

Troye giggles, his whole face changing, eyes lighting up, he looks so young all of a sudden.

“No, but seriously. You are dating the wrong boys, they don’t deserve you if they can’t see how cool,” he starts listing them on his fingers in the air, voice earnest and clear, “funny, clever, talented, gorgeous, and nice you are.”

“Connor…” Troye says, voice full of awe.

“You are a ridiculously special human, Connor,” he says. 

After a while the others get bored, and they decide on watching a movie instead. Connor and Troye maintain their positions, and thankfully, no one comments on it. They fall asleep part way through the movie, Zoe shaking them awake after. Troye untangles himself first, padding towards the bathroom and rubbing at his eyes. Just as Connor goes to get up too, Zoe sits down on the sofa next to him.

(He’d let Alfie tell Zoe he was gay, as he imagined he’d give the game away over skype anyway. When they had arrived, Zoe had jumped on it and handed him a rainbow ‘Congratulations’ cookie.)

“Hey,” she says, beaming at him. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he replies.

“I know it’s none of my business, but whatever is going on between you two, is adorable.”

Connor goes beet red, too tired to protest.

“Uh, thanks, I think?” he says. 

Zoe just nods, like that decides it – what ‘It’ is, who knows – before pushing herself up again and walking off.

Connor sits there for a bit, his mind blank, feeling heavy and tired. By the time he’s gone to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and got changed, Troye is sparked out in his makeshift bed. Connor gets into his own bed situation, lies there for two minutes blinking at the ceiling, his thoughts instantly racing. He turns over to where Tyler is, the boy’s breathing is not heavy enough to be really deeply asleep. Not that Connor would care anyway at this point.

“Tyler,” he whispers.

Tyler mumbles something, and turns over. Connor grabs at his shoulder shaking him. Tyler is not going be happy with him tomorrow, lazily swatting at Connor with his hand.

“Go away,” he hisses.

“It’s important, please…” he says, in his sweetest most pleading voice. Tyler sighs and turns back over, opening eyes. 

“What is it?” he finally asks. 

“Out there,” is all Connor says, gesturing to the living area. Tyler lets out another puff of air, but stands up all the same, following Connor out the room. 

“What,” Tyler mouths at him, blinking into the lighter room. 

Connor just beckons him again, moving further away from the door - once he’s satisfied with the distance he finally talks, albeit quietly.

“I’m freaking out,” he starts.

“Are you coming out to me again or something?” Tyler says sarcastically, his feathers still very much ruffled.

“No, look, I’m sorry. I just. I have feelings, like too many and I can’t sleep. I like a boy, a lot and I’m panicking about it,” Connor explains.

“Wait what?” Tyler’s eyes have lit up now. “Who? Oh my god, I’m so excited.”

“Uh,” Connor starts, he hadn’t really thought this bit through, Tyler was really close to Troye and this could make things extremely weird and awkward. 

“Oh my god,” Tyler suddenly says. 

“What?” Connor says, frowning and looking around.

“It’s Troye, isn’t it?” dropping down to a high pitched whisper.

“Uh...Yeah,” Connor finally says, his hands pressed against his cheeks in embarrassment

Tyler laughs. “You are adorable.” 

“Am I that obvious?” Connor asks.

“Do you really want me to answer that? I mean I was in Italy with you guys.”

“Oh god,” Connor says.

“So what you going to do about it? And don’t give me ‘nothing’ you came out of the closet after twenty one years, asking a cute boy out really isn’t that scary in comparison,” Tyler reasons.

“You’re right, he is cute.”

“Oh god, don’t, I will throw up,” Tyler jests, then says. “Look if you need any help planning a date, choosing a wedding venue, just hit me up. But I need to go to bed now.”

“Okay,” Connor says then repeats it again, as if he is reassuring himself. 

Tyler sidles off to bed, and Connor drinks a glass of water far too slowly before doing the same. 

_

When Troye arrives at his hotel room in Anaheim, it is missing a certain boy from Minnesota, which is strange because he’s pretty sure he had arrived before him, but he tries not to feel too bummed out about it and starts on unpacking his stuff. A minute later he gets a text from the boy in question, who he has not seen in over a month. 

‘U here?’ Connor writes.

‘YES. WHERE R U. I WANT TO SEE UUU’ Troye replies, only slightly dramatically.

‘Haha ;)’ is the only reply he gets, so Troye sighs and goes to freshen up in the bathroom.

A few minutes later though he practically runs out of the bathroom again when he hears his phone beep again. 

It’s Connor again. ‘’Come up to the roof outdoor carpark thing.’

‘what ? why would i do tht? no u come hereee’ Troye replies.

‘Just do it silly QUICKLY’ is Connor’s response. 

Troye frowns at his phone for a bit, and then feels his heartbeat start to pick up. His mind starts to race, wondering what this could be a about – a surprise pre release party for TRXYE, he feels jittery. Who’s going to be there? Maybe it’s nothing, but he has this funny feeling in his stomach. 

‘Okay but u better not murder me, tomorrow is kinda important.’ he replies, before going back to the bathroom to get ready, his hand shaky in anticipation of seeing Connor and whatever it is he is up to.

Troye eventually finds his way up, wondering only briefly if he is meant to go up this particular set of stairs. He reaches the top though, and pushes the heavy door open. A few steps away framed by the slightly pink sky as it transitions to dusk, is Connor Franta staring thoughtfully at the ground, and fiddling with his hands and shirt. He startles when he hears the door as if Troye’s appearance was a surprise, rather than an invitation.

“This isn’t that part where we get stuck out here if I close the door right?” Troye says, feeling uncertain, breaking the atmosphere of tension that is building in his gut. 

Why does he feel so jittery? This is Connor, Connor is good, Connor is great, in fact he is really great. But maybe this is bad, maybe this is, _‘I’ve worked out you have feelings for me and you need to stop – the flirting was just a game on my half, and I’ve met someone else,’_ but then Troye thinks: Why tell me that on a roof? The sun will start to set soon, seems overly symbolic and possibly cruel for Connor.

“Nah, already checked that,” the other boy replies, walking towards Troye, looking only slightly less on edge. 

When he reaches him, he wraps his arms around Troye, pulling him close. It feels strangely intimate, and Troye can’t help but nuzzle a bit into his neck – Connor pulls away.

“Hey,” he says, as if they were meeting again. He looks at Troye as if he is trying to reacquaint himself with every freckle on his nose, and every eyelash. 

“Hey,” Troye replies, swallowing hard, looking dazedly into Connor’s sparkling green eyes. His body language is tense, but his face is adoring. Troye lets out a slow measured breath.

“You’re making me nervous,” Troye blurts out.

“Ah, well ditto,” Connor says Troye frowns lightly, trying not to move or speak so he doesn’t put Connor off, what he guesses, is a very planned out speech.

“I mean. I have to ask you something but it could kind of affect our friendship, and like, if that’s the case, I’ve organised for us to be able to switch rooms and –” 

Connor suddenly grasps at Troye’s hands like it will stop him from falling over his words, then stares at where their hands are connecting for a few seconds. Troye himself is pretty tingly from the sensation, he daren’t say a word still.

Then Connor looks up again.

“I don’t know if this is great timing or really bad timing to tell you this. But I can’t really be around you any longer without saying something,” he continues.

“Okay…” Troye says suddenly, not being able to help himself, “look Connor if I’ve made you uncomfortable in anyway, I’m really sorry and –” Troye starts rambling. 

Connor shocks him by laughing suddenly. 

“Troye, shut up!” 

“Rude,” Troye says, laughing slightly too, the tension easing out of his shoulders.

‘I’m trying to tell you I like you,” Connor blurts out, still smiling.

“What do you mean?” Troye responds.

Connor rolls his eyes. “God you are so dumb, I might change my mind. I’m attracted to you, I want to kiss you and hold your hand and,” he shakes their entwined hands at this point for emphasis, “go on dates with you. Do you think you think that’s something you would want too?”

Troye blinks at him for a second, before uselessly stumbling out “uh yeah,” as he feels like he might actually still be asleep on the plane.

“Okay,” Connor says, letting out a very long shaky breath. “You free right now?”

“Yes,” Troye says, still feeling as though he has been hypnotised. 

“Good,” Connor says, letting go of one of Troye’s hands and dragging him over till they are closer to the edge of the roof, the closer they get Troye sees something come into view. Then they stop in front of it. 

“Oh my god,” Troye says, letting go of Connor’s hand, to put his hands over his own mouth, “What did you do?” 

In front of them is a blanket, with food on silver trays, presumably from room service, candles, a bunch of sunflowers, champagne in an ice bucket and two glasses, the sun is starting to set. 

He turns to Connor, who just sort of shrugs, a massive grin on his face, and pink flush on his cheeks, and he is stupidly attractive, Troye thinks to himself.

“Are we allowed to kiss at the beginning of the first date?” Troye asks.

Connor just laughs, “I’ll allow it,” then Troye leans overs, cupping his face in his hands and kissing him, soft and slow, the way he had wanted to back in March. 

-

**Vidcon 2015**

When Troye arrives at his and Connor’s hotel room, there is a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging from the doorknob, he frowns, wondering if the room isn’t ready yet.

He decides to knock. “Connor?” he calls out.

“One sec!” he replies.

Troye sighs, “I've had a very long trip you know!”

“Okay, you can come in now,” Connor shouts back, sounding further away.

“I should think so,” Troye says, as he slides his room card into the door.

The first thing he sees is a room service cart, with a few trays on it, along with candles, a bottle of champagne and some glasses. The next thing he sees as he actually steps into the main room is none over than Connor Franta splayed across the double bed nearest to the door in nothing but his underpants. Okay, and also what appears to be sunflower petals scattered over himself and the bed, one flower tucked behind his ear. 

“Happy pre EP announcement day, babe,” Connor says, smirking, his hands under his head.

“You are ridiculous,” Troye says, instantly dropping his bag and taking his jacket off, trying to regain the breath that just got knocked out of him.

Connor just laughs. “But you love it.” 

Troye sit on the side of the bed leaning over to kiss him fiercely, pulling away only briefly to say. “Yeah, and I love you.”

“Good,” Connor responds, signing it off with a kiss on his cheek. “Now, take your clothes off.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this. For my other Tronnor fics, go [here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniamqueenx/pseuds/wheniamqueenx/works?fandom_id=218280).


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